


Hell To Your Doorstep

by Steerpike13713



Series: Morningstar Family Values [6]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Gen, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Post-Episode: s02e18 The Good the Bad and the Crispy, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28575678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerpike13713/pseuds/Steerpike13713
Summary: The Goddess is gone from this world, Chloe is in on the secret and everyone got out of it with their skins intact. This is a happy ending, right?Except for the little nagging issues of an apocalypse 'round the corner, Sabrina's injuries from her fight with her grandmother, and the Spellmans finally deciding that enough is enough and even Sabrina cannot expect to be left to deal with this much mortal peril all on her own.And then, just to add insult to injury, someone has up and kidnapped Lucifer.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) & Sabrina Spellman
Series: Morningstar Family Values [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561111
Comments: 84
Kudos: 172





	Hell To Your Doorstep

Hospitals, Sabrina had decided after the first hour of being left alone, just waiting for the world to blow up or not depending on whether Lucifer and the rest of them had managed to catch her grandmother, were boring.

She had known that, in principle, but never having suffered any injury before this that Aunt Hilda couldn’t patch up for her once she got back to the mortuary, she’d never had the chance to get first-hand experience.

Now...every inch of her ached. The awful, frozen, cracking pain of her burns, and the numb uselessness of her arm, which was worse. She couldn’t lift it, couldn’t feel it, couldn’t make it  _ do  _ anything. She could see it, it was still there, bruised nearly black but otherwise unharmed, but no amount of glaring or fierce concentration would make it respond.

And, just to make bad worse, she  _ had  _ tapped herself out, bringing Linda back. She couldn’t...remember it, exactly. Just like in Greendale, her recollections of those few minutes were...blurred, hazy, as if seen through water. Not all that much use when it came to trying to figure out how she’d done it, even if there was no denying she had.

Linda had come round not too long after everyone else had left. If Sabrina wanted to be strictly accurate, she’d been woken up when the nurse who’d come in to check on them shrieked at the sight of Sabrina out of bed and with her IV out, and Maze hovering over Linda with her knives in hand, ready to take the eye out of anyone who so much as looked at Linda funny.

Sabrina had heard Maze’s voice, uncharacteristically soft and urgent, talking to Linda all the while she’d been being helped back to her own cot - her legs kept refusing to take her weight, so she took a lot of helping - and wondered whether Maze was ever going to actually admit she might like Linda a bit more than she was willing to admit to herself. Not that it was any of Sabrina’s business, but she liked Maze, and she liked Linda, and someone in all of this ought to make a grab at happiness, if her dad and Chloe had missed their shot.

She still wasn’t sure what she thought about Chloe, after everything. It wasn’t that she’d said anything Sabrina hadn’t heard before, and she had apologised, sort of, but-

Well, Linda had been dying, they’d all been emotional, and- In Sabrina’s experience, people were grateful while the crisis was still fresh in their minds, but when things calmed down, that’s when they started being suspicious again. And...she had apparently just kicked off the end of the world again.

The worst thing was, she couldn’t even be sorry about it, not with Linda sitting up in the other bed with no sign she’d ever even felt poorly, and a growing knot of doctors around her and Mazikeen trying to figure out how, exactly, a patient that half the surgeons from the ER swore had been at death’s door when they brought her in could be in perfect health just a few hours later.

“-can’t understand it,” one of them was saying now, taking Linda’s pulse again as if it might’ve stopped in the last ten seconds. “Even if we’d been able to make grafts…”

“Well, don’t ask me,” Linda said shakily. “I only just woke up. I’m sorry, I don’t...I remember...being attacked, but…I had a patient with me, is she?”

“Miss Spellman? She’s fine. Before this, I would have said she’s less injured than you are, but now…”

“‘m over here,” Sabrina managed. Even to her own ears, her voice was thick and slurred and unlike itself.

“Sabrina? What- Oh. My god.”

Sabrina heard rustling, and someone telling Linda to lie back down, that they still weren’t sure what had happened to her or whether she was actually as recovered as she seemed. She tried to turn her head to look, but her head felt suddenly heavy, too heavy to lift. She could hear Maze’s voice growling at another of the doctors - someone must’ve said something, or pushed too close to how all this had happened, Sabrina thought with indifference. It felt...very hard to care, right now. Maybe they’d all go up in flames and she wouldn’t have to think about it.

She felt weak and wrung-out and miserable, her mind floating somewhere outside herself. Her body did not feel quite her own, and every inch of it so  _ heavy  _ it could not be moved.

Whatever the doctors decided, they’d decide without her, Sabrina thought, and let herself drift.

For a moment, she almost thought she was back in Greendale, out in the woods where Baphomet had died, laid upon the altar. Voiceless and helpless, she lay curled there. A man stood over her, tall and dark with a knife in his hand. She knew him, and yet she did not. The world was hollow, cracked like an egg, and something was seeping in-

She flinched back, helpless to do anything else, and when she opened her eyes, the shadow standing over her resolved itself into Lucifer.

He must have come straight from the pier, his suit crumpled and his face drawn and pale and exhausted, the way Sabrina had only ever seen him a handful of times since they’d met. Baphomet’s apocalypse had got less of a reaction out of him than this.

“Be not afraid?” Sabrina prompted, and though her voice was still weak and hoarse, it was steadier than it had been.

Lucifer’s mouth twitched. “Sort of missing the point, isn’t that? They’re  _ supposed  _ to be scared of me.”

“I’m not.”

“True. But you always did break all the rules, didn’t you?” Lucifer forced an awful, mirthless grin, and Sabrina knew what must have happened. Her grandmother was dead, then. She couldn’t say she was sorry about it, exactly. Aside from anything else, the Goddess had never actually spoken two words to her. She’d always made a habit of talking  _ about  _ Sabrina, but never  _ to  _ her, as if Sabrina were something nasty that couldn’t understand her, like a slug. She’d also tried to kill Sabrina, but that wasn’t anything special. Lilith and Prudence had both tried, more than once, and Sabrina didn’t have anything against  _ them _ . She didn’t want to ask what had happened, exactly - didn’t want to have to pretend sympathy or admit to not feeling any actual grief - but it felt like she should, all the same.

“Is she…?” she managed.

“Gone.”

Sabrina couldn’t think of anything to say but: “Good.”

No more Goddess. It didn’t quite feel real. She’d been looming over everything since Sabrina came to LA, and now she wasn’t. It should’ve been a relief. It wasn’t. Probably it would be in the morning, but Sabrina’s brain felt slow and muzzy, her body one big ache, her arm a dead weight by her side, and right now the world possibly ending meant nothing but the end of pain.

Her father’s hand brushed over her hair, just gently, with the very tips of his fingers, the way he had done when she’d only just moved in with him and he wasn’t sure how much she’d be willing to accept, or as if he’d learned it out of a book as Something Parents Did and wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

Sabrina leaned into it, just a little, and butted her head against his hand, the way Salem did with her. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault, hellspawn.”

“Is Linda still here?”

“I believe she’s checking out. The doctors are  _ mystified _ , apparently, but Maze is keeping them off her.” This time, the smile was more genuine, a small and crooked thing. Sabrina managed a weak answering smirk.

“So...world not broken?”

“World, so far as we can tell, not broken. Not any more broken than it was this morning, anyway.”

“Oh.”

There didn’t really seem to be much to say after that, as Lucifer dragged over the visitor’s chair to sit next to her.

“You know we’re going to have to tell my aunties about this, right?” she asked, letting her head roll to one side to look up at him. “The doctors said I might possibly regain some use of the arm, but any sentence that has that many qualifiers in it is probably bullshit, right?”

She ought, she knew, to be furious about that, but she didn’t have enough fight left in her. She’d never felt this drained in her life, even after raising the dead before at the Desecrated Church, even after Baphomet. 

She’d fought a goddess to a standstill today, and brought Linda back from the dead. An arm wasn’t the worst price she could’ve paid for that, except that she couldn’t imagine what her life was going to look like without it.

“So young, and yet so cynical,” Lucifer said, a bit shakily. “I don’t know much about human medicine - you’re all so  _ breakable _ -” his voice caught, just a little, on the last word, and Sabrina knew that it was as close as he would come to lying. “But I’d trust Hilda ahead of this lot for magical injuries.”

That was fair enough, Sabrina thought. She’d trust Aunt Hilda more too, except- Except Sabrina had been smote with the literal fist of an angry goddess, and her arm- it didn’t feel like  _ anything _ . Just heavy, and limp, and useless, a weight hanging off her shoulder.

Worse, Aunt Zelda was going to have a fit. She’d had a fit about the thing with the Order of the Innocents, and Sabrina hadn’t even been hurt, at least not in any way that had lasted. Even the slit throat had healed up so cleanly that she had to look for the scar in the mirror, so there really hadn’t been any point in mentioning it when she called home afterwards.

There would be no hiding it, this time, so Aunt Zelda would want an answer, and she hadn’t been keen on Sabrina going away for the summer in the first place. If she came back hurt, probably she’d never be allowed back, and even if home was still Greendale...it hadn’t been all bad, this summer. It hadn’t even been mostly bad. And, frankly, even with everything that had happened, it had still been more peace than she’d had since her sixteenth birthday, when she’d refused to sign the Book of the Beast. She  _ liked  _ LA. She  _ liked  _ Trixie and Ella and Linda and Maze and the rest of them, and even though she missed home, she’d miss it here, too, when she went back.

“Why couldn’t it be Raphael who popped up out of nowhere just in time to meddle?” Lucifer muttered, more to himself than to Sabrina. “I  _ like  _ Raphael, and the Archangel of Healing would be perfect for this sort of job. As opposed to the Archangel of...whatever it is Raguel’s doing these days.”

“Is he still here?” Sabrina asked, suddenly alarmed, trying to lever herself up on her one good arm and failing to do anything but jar the needle in her arm again. Lucifer caught her by the shoulders before she could do more than jar it.

“No, no, he fluttered off as soon as Mum was dealt with.  _ After  _ erasing the memories of the one  _ actual  _ murderer the Detective was able to arrest, so there’s that.”

“You managed to find  _ another  _ murderer?” 

It was almost impressive. Okay, yes, LA seemed to have murders the way the mortuary had mice, but normally Lucifer could confine himself to about one a week.

“Mm. Apparently Hector Ruiz tracked down the cleaners Mum used while Mum was massacring her way through my staff.”

What little breath there had been in Sabrina’s lungs left her in one long, pained exhale at the reminder.

She wasn’t as close to the staff at Lux as she could’ve been - she was allowed into the club at nights, sure, but the club scene really hadn’t ever been her thing, and outside opening hours there weren’t that many people about. Still, she’d liked Patrick. He’d taken time out one evening after the mess with Montgomery to show her how to make cocktails, and learn which ones packed a surprising punch under the frou-frou pastel exterior, so she didn’t get caught out like that again. He had a rescue pit bull he’d show pictures of to anyone who even suggested they might be willing to look at them, harboured a desperate and admittedly hopeless crush on Maze or Maze’s knives, and loved playing the wise advice-dispensing bartender, even though he admitted half of his advice was based on smutty romance novels. And now he was dead, because of her.

Lucifer could dress it up however he wanted - he had a way of slithering around the truth, even if he wouldn’t outright lie - but Sabrina knew the truth.

Her grandmother had gone to the Penthouse looking for Gabriel’s Horn in order to end the world with it. It would never have been an option, if Sabrina had never come to LA, if the Goddess had never been made aware of her existence. If she’d never gone to the Penthouse, Patrick would never have tried to stop her. He would never have died.

She swallowed. “How...how did she do it?” she asked, hating the hoarse, pained rasping of her own voice.

Lucifer was still. For a moment, she half-thought he wasn’t going to tell her, that he’d try to protect her - as if  _ not knowing _ had ever been the same thing as being protected. All it ever meant was that she wasn’t prepared for whatever danger she wasn’t being told about.

Then, something in Lucifer seemed to uncoil.

“So far as I can tell, it was an accident.” 

Lucifer didn’t say the words the way someone else might, as if that mitigated what her grandmother had done. He knew, he understood. All ‘accident’ meant was that there was no justice, no vengeance to be had.

“Mum got herself stabbed by Chet Ruiz, and was spilling light every which way,” Lucifer went on, his voice bleak. “Patrick just...happened to be in the wrong place at the worst possible time.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Sabrina snarled, or tried to snarl. Her voice felt weak, her throat raw.

The Goddess was dead. So was Patrick. One of those deaths would be more lasting than the other. And she was so tired. She had never been so tired in all her life. It felt like she’d been asleep for days, and still it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. But it was snarl or cry now, and one thing she and Lucifer had always had in common was that they’d rather fight than grieve, given the choice.

Fight who, the cynical part of her brain whispered. The Goddess was already gone, beyond anything Sabrina could do to her, and even if she hadn’t been...Sabrina had fought her to a standstill once already today, and nearly killed herself and Linda both doing it. She couldn’t bank on luck like that twice. It didn’t stop the fury humming under her skin, the need to find someone who could be made to suffer for what had happened today.

“Did I ever say it did?” Lucifer snapped back harshly, his shoulders already drawn back as if he were about to take flight on wings he’d already lost. “She’s gone, witchling. Not even Father’s intervention could drag her back now.”

It would have meant a lot more if Sabrina could be sure that it had hurt, that the Goddess had felt every bit of the pain she had inflicted before she died...but she’d been Lucifer’s mother, whatever else she was, and there were some things not even a daughter could ask.

She swallowed.

“...are you…?”

Was he what? All right? Who could be, after all that? She wished, suddenly and desperately, that Linda was here. She’d know what to ask, and how, and how not to make it any worse when the answer inevitably turned out to be ‘no’.

“I’m not the one in the hospital bed, hellspawn.”

Sabrina huffed at that. “Yeah, I noticed. Doesn’t mean I don’t get to ask.”

Lucifer’s smile didn’t get any less forced. “Yes, well. I’ve...I’ve been worse, I suppose. Your aunts should be here tomorrow.”

Alarmed, Sabrina tried to lever herself up on her elbows, but her balance was off, and all she managed was a lopsided half-slump, propped up by the one arm that still obeyed her commands, her whole right side aching, every nerve screaming with the exertion. 

“You told them?”

“Not like we can hide what happened to your arm, is it?” Lucifer retorted. “Not if we want Hilda to do anything about it, anyway.”

“I...can she do that?”

“I don’t know. The Devil might get everywhere, but I never did have much of an interest in medicine.” Lucifer paused. “Raph might know,” he muttered. “If he was still talking to me. Besides. No harm in making the attempt, now, is there?”

Sabrina tried to shrug. That didn’t work right either. “I guess.” She groaned. “Aunt Zelda is going to kill me.”

Lucifer snorted. “Please. If anyone’s going to be her first target, it’ll be me for putting you in Mum and Raguel’s crosshairs in the first place.”

Which was all very well for Lucifer to say, but Auntie Zee had been living with Sabrina long enough to know just how much trouble Sabrina could attract without any outside interference at all. Sabrina was going to be hearing about this for the rest of her life. Aunt Zelda was going to bring it up every time she suggested anything that might possibly end badly. Sabrina could almost hear it.

But...if Raguel was still out there, and Lucifer didn’t know where…

“He’s not...he’s not coming back, is he?” Sabrina asked, hating the crack in her own voice.

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said grimly. “He says he doesn’t want you dead, but we both know you can’t trust most angels as far as you can throw them. And if he isn’t Fallen, I wouldn’t put it past dear old Dad to pass on a few orders about dealing with you, now Mum isn’t around to do the job for him.”

Something cold coiled in the pit of Sabrina’s stomach. She thought, again, of God Johnson - Earl Johnson, though even knowing it had only been a fragment of her grandfather’s spirit he had carried made it hard to remember that - and what he had said to her. _ You’re not an abomination. _ She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. Not just because he’d said so, but because all ‘abomination’ meant was something that had never been intended to exist.  _ Something  _ had planned for Sabrina. Not in any way she’d liked or wanted, but she’d been  _ prophesied _ . Which meant she had always been supposed to exist.

But Raguel-

He hadn’t seemed unfriendly, exactly. And whatever he’d said about still doing his job, by his own lights, it didn’t seem like he’d quite been doing it the way everyone seemed to expect from him. But the murderers he’d spared had been human, and Sabrina, as she kept being reminded, was not. It wouldn’t be going against the False God’s will to kill  _ her _ .

She’d fought the Goddess of Creation to a standstill, Sabrina reminded herself. One angel, even the Vengeance of God, shouldn’t be much of a challenge, after that. Except her grandmother had been weakened, and Raguel was at full power. Except even doing that much had nearly killed Linda and would’ve killed Sabrina too if Lucifer hadn’t arrived in time.

She hated this - feeling so small, so scared, so helpless, here in her hospital bed with her arm lying dead at her side. She wished, for the first time since she’d come to LA, that she was home, back in Greendale with her family and her coven there to rally around her. Who did she have, here, really? Just Lucifer. Linda had sacrificed enough already, Chloe had proved herself unable to accept them for what they were, and would keep Trixie away as well, Maze had other priorities, Amenadiel she was only just coming to know, and Ella did not know her at all beyond the face Sabrina had shown her. She wanted Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda and Ambrose. She wanted Theo and Roz and Harvey and Nick and even Prudence. She wanted the people who  _ knew  _ her, and loved her anyway. 

Some of that must have shown on her face, the resentment and the pain and the desperate confusion of loss, because for a moment, Lucifer seemed almost to flinch, and she knew, with the awful certainty of nightmare, that the next words out of his mouth would be some excuse to go, that she needed her rest, that someone still needed to deal with any one of the hundred jobs that Patrick’s death or the break-in at Lux or whatever had become of Charlotte Richards’ body after the Goddess was dealt with.

“Stay?” she asked, before he could say any of that. It wasn’t because she was scared of Raguel coming back, she told herself firmly. That wasn’t why- She didn’t need to hide behind her father like a child. She just...wanted him there. Wanted  _ someone  _ there. If she could’ve had everything she wanted, she’d have Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda and Ambrose all there as well, but even then she’d want Lucifer there too.

Lucifer blinked down at her. For a moment, he looked almost confused, but then his face cleared.

“As you like it, hellspawn. I don’t think we’ll be able to get an  _ Omen  _ marathon on the telly here, but…”

Something in Sabrina twisted. She didn’t want to think about  _ The Omen _ , about Gregory Peck dragging his own little son into a church to be butchered, just for being born to the wrong father, in the wrong way. 

“I always liked  _ Rosemary’s Baby _ better, anyway,” she lied, forcing a crooked, half-hearted little grin.

Lucifer was already folding himself into the visitors’ chair beside her bed. It was easier to see how tired he was, like this. The shadows under his eyes, the tension in the set of his shoulders that he still hadn’t had the chance to put down. Still, he had a smile for her, and it even looked mostly real.

“Yes! Definitely one of the better me-related horror movies humanity has yet produced. Although this fixation on siblings is starting to worry me, witchling.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You brought it up!”

“And now I’m telling you, it isn’t going to happen.” Lucifer leaned over, and pressed the world’s most awkward kiss between Sabrina’s eyes. “You’re trouble enough, all on your own.”

Sabrina managed a weak grin. “You love me for it really.”

“I’d doubt you were mine if you weren’t.” He settled back in his chair, apparently content to stay there all night, if it was what Sabrina needed. It put a warm little glow in Sabrina’s chest. It felt like- Like being home, at the mortuary. Like all those nights when she’d been small and had nightmares, and Aunt Hilda had sat up with her, and Aunt Zelda had promised her that, when she was older, the scariest thing in any of her dreams would be her.

Looked like she’d got that one right. Sabrina had fought a  _ goddess  _ today, and she’d sort-of won. She might not feel like it right now, but...she was kind of a badass, wasn’t she?

It was that thought that went with her into sleep, as it washed over her like a riptide, dragging her down so hard and fast that she didn’t even think to struggle against it, darkness enfolding her on every side.

It was still dark when she woke again, but when she turned her head to look at the chair by her bedside, Lucifer was gone.


End file.
